Lark
by Dead Hero
Summary: What if Dick had a sister when his parents fell? Meet Roxa, a martial arts prodigy and one of the most sarcastic, cold people alive. While Dick becomes Robin, she becomes Lark and together they fight crime with Batman. As Ruxandra goes through life, can she keep things straight and not tangle with love? Rating might go up for later chapters. Working on 3rd chapter!
1. Chapter 1

**Haley's Circus-5 years ago.**

**Ruxandra's Pov~~~~**

I weaved through the circus grounds, heart pumping, chasing my little brother.

"Lui Rick-**Rick**! When I get my hands on you!" I chased him, screaming.

I finally caught sight of his white t-shirt, and grinned. Oh, he was going to get it.

I lunged forward and grabbed his shirt, pulling him down. Rick shrieked and tried to push me off, but I had latched on tightly.

"AH, îmi pare rău Dixie! Îmi pare rău că am citit jurnalul-**AH, I'm sorry Dixie! I'm sorry I read your diary**!" Rick yelled.

I growled, "Don't call me Dixie, Rick. Știi că-**You know that**!" I shook him a little.

He nodded really fast, and then I let him go, only for him shriek,"Mămică-**Mama**, Tată-**Daddy**!"

I muttered a few explicit words that Rick hopefully didn't hear. Soon my mom and Dad would be here, time to make scarce.

"Richard, Ruxandra! What did I tell you about wrestling in the middle of the circus!" Great. My Dad had arrived.

"El a început! A trecut prin jurnalul meu!-**He started it! He went through my diary!**" I exclaimed. I only spoke all Romani when I was mad.

"Ya, bine m-ai abordat și ma sunat lui Rick!-**Ya, well you tackled me and called me Rick!**" Rick yelled.

"M-ai sunat Dixie!-**You called me Dixie!**" I yelled.

Dad sighed, exasperated, "Roxa, Dick, don't call each other names even though they _do_ make sense to you. Now Roxa," he turned to me. "Go practice your knives and flips. Dickie," Dad now turned to Rick, sorry, _Dick_. "Go practice your somersaults. Now off, both of you!"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip to Later That Night~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

****I bathed in the warm glow of the circus lights, basking in the warmth. My lightbathing was interrupted when I heard light footsteps.

I spun around with an old knife that I kept in my belt, ready to take down the intruder. The man with a huge duffle bag held up his arms,"I'm innocent!"

I relaxed and put the knife back in my belt and grinned. "Peter! Good to see you." Peter was my fighting and weapons instructor. He was also the head man of 'The Russian Rebels' the circus' stunt men that rode motorcycles around the ring while fighting each other with knives and other miscellaneous items.

"Da, good to see you. I got something vor vou." Peter drew something out of his bag. It was a foot long, rectangular, gilded box made with polished Koa wood with the engravings 'Мой любимый yченик', Russian for 'My Favorite Student'.

I gazed at the tall Russian, with tears in my eyes. "F-for me?" I asked.

Peter smiled and said, "Da, now open it already!"

I opened it to see two U.S. Marine stiletto fighting knives . Knife 1# had a blade made of silver, a guard made of titanium, and a handle made of Micarta. Knife 2# was pretty much the same, but the blade was obsidian.

Now I really was crying. These must have cost a fortune. "Where did you get the money?" I asked Peter tearfully.

He replied, "Everybody in the Rebels pitched in, along with your father and Alan Haley."

That surprised me. Alan Haley, Pop Haley's son, was a real jerk to me, so why would he help?

Peter must be able to read minds because he told me, "Alan felt bad for being a little monster towards you, and since yesterday was your birthday..." He trailed off.

I couldn't believe it! People remembered my birthday even though I didn't say anything, mark the calendar, or even hum the 'Birthday' song!

I lunged forward and hugged Peter with all of my might, which was a good bit considering I bench pressed 150 ponds on my good days.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I said into his costume.

* * *

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~1 Hour Later~~~~~~~~~~~~**

****I gazed at myself in the mirror. I had my pitch black hair up in a bun, with light makeup on my face, and my costume, a pinkish-red leotard with gold wings connected to a black skort on. It was hor-"You look beautiful Roxa!" My father exclaimed.-rifying.

I put on a a fake smile and turned towards my father. "When are we going out?" I asked.

Dad grinned and replied, "In a few minutes, my little Lark."

I smiled at the name, then frowned. "Did Mother make this outfit?"

Dad sighed while nodding his head. "Yes."

No wonder I hated it. My mother had a dreadful sense of fashion. Mabey I could have black pants like the men, and change the color of my leotard to a blood red, instead of this horrible rose color...

We then heard a large booming voice announcing, "Now the only family in the world..."

Me and my father glanced at each other and had the same thought. '_Shit_'

We ran as fast as we could to the ladder that went up to our platform that we jumped off of.

"That can _all _do a quadruple flip..."

We scrambled up, but my dad's foot slip, but I grabbed his hand and muttered,"I won't let you fall, not now, not ever."

I pulled him up and we climbed quickly and took our poses. "The Flying GRAYSOOONS!"

I heard the applause as the spotlights went onto us. I scratched my side as my two new knives scratched me. I always kept a knife on my person just incase something happened and for good luck.

My mother hissed,"Stand straight, Ruxandra. Be like Dick."

I straightened up and glared at my mother. But, I quickly smiled as the music started. My father grabbed the bar and swung doing a triple flip to grab the next bar. He hooked his legs around and hung there momentarily, while my mother swung on the first bar and reached out to Dad. I waited for my cue...and jumped. I swung and flipped over to my mother, who grabbed my ankles.

SNAP! I looked at the wire in fear. It had given away and I was going to die. I looked up at Dad, who had a look of determination in his eye. He muttered something and gave a massive swing of his arms and heaved me towards the pole. I felt fear for a second, then remembered, '_My_ _knives!_' I grabbed my knives from my belt and swung them into the wooden pole. They held and I wrapped my feet around the beam, and looked down.

It was a horrifying sight. My parents bodies were bent awkwardly, with bones sticking out of torn flesh, and blood spilling every. I shrieked in horror, and took out my knives and slid down the beam. I raced over to where my little brother had kneeled.

"Mămică-**Mama**, Tată-**Daddy**!" Richard screamed. I fell to my knees over my father's body in shock. I put my head on his blood soaked chest and cried. Then, I heard the faintest sound of a heartbeat and looked at my dad in surprise. I saw him give a weak grin and he murmured, "You caught me, it was time to return the favor..." He trailed of as his eyes dulled.

I looked frantically at his face, but upon seeing no signs of life, I screamed in pain and grief. All noise from the stands ceased as Dick joined my scream of horror.

And up in the stands there stood one man with the sound of gunshots ringing in ears and the sight of pearls and blood in his sight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Gotham City's Orphanage For Younglings-4 yrs., 11mnths, and 30 days ago~~~~**

**Ruxandra's Pov**

I looked at the dreary building in front of me. It was painted gray and light gray, with chipped, broken white shutters and on top was a bent weathervane made of rusty copper.

I wanted to cry, but remembered why I couldn't and looked down to my right at Dick. He was sniffling, wiping his nose with his stuffed bird while holding my hand with the other. I sighed and vowed that I would never let him get away from me. We were the last of the Flying Graysons, and I was determined not to be separated. I shifted the weight of my and Dick's duffel bags on my shoulder and trudged forward.

When we reached the entrance, I walked through the door and passed the steps to the old ductaped desk. I rang the rusty bell sitting on the edge and a woman appeared. She had obvious fake blond hair, chapped, pasty lips, a sickly complexion and red eyes from I'm guessing exhaustion.

She gave a sickly smile and said, "Hello, you must be the gypsy orphan that I was told we were receiving."

I glanced at her in confusion, "Orphan? As in one? There are two of us, me, Ruxandra, and Dick." I gestured the little noirette mess that had latched onto my leg. 'Pasty Lady' ,as I had dubbed her, frowned and started typing on her old computer, then grinned.

"Well, Ruxandra, seems since you're too old for Younglings, you've been moved to Gotham's Juvenile Delinquent center in East End," she said brightly. My jaw dropped in shock as Dick burst out in tears.

"Now, Frankie and Joe will but your bag back in the car," Pasty gestured to the two guards standing by the door.

"While Bobby and Matt will help _Dickie_ up to his new quarantine-I mean room!" She ended while pointing at two beefy, mean looking men by the steps that I didn't see earlier.

A few tears slipped past my defences and down my cheeks as I dropped his smaller, light blue bag. I crouched and hugged Dick strongly, while inconspicuously slipping into his pocket my obsidian blade and a note. "E în regulă, pasăre mică. Vom fi împreună în curând, zboară prin aer așa cum am făcut la circ! iubesc-**It's okay, little bird. We'll be together soon, flying through the air like we did in the circus! I love-**" I whispered, but was interuppted as I was grabbed by the shoulder and dragged to the parking lot. Joe and Frank dropped me on the asphalt and I climbed reluctantly into the black Hummer that was waiting for me and sighed. I picked up my silver knife and thought of why I had given him its partner. I knew that we would probably be separated, so I gave him the black knife to resemble me, and kept the silver knife in remembrance of Dick. I closed my eyes for the long trip since the orphanage was in West End, while the Juvenile Delinquent center was in East.

* * *

"Hey, we're here gypsy."

I heard as I was shaken from slumber. I looked around and quickly realized where I was. East End, the worst part of Gotham. I walked up to the gray building that used electric barbed wire instead of a white picket fence and had metal bars on the windows used instead of glass. It looked like an apocalyptic wasteland of misery and doom. I and the guards walked into the dank building, past the entrance and into a little office. It was painted a dark grey, had dark wood flooring and a metal desk with a man sitting behind it. The man looked youngish, with a shaved head and an eye patch that was a black/grey color. One of the guards, I think his name was Joe or something, cleared his throat.

The man at the desk stood and spoke. "This is the Grayson girl?" He questioned.

Joe nodded while the man looked at me and said, "Hello Ruxandra. I'm Warden Young or Sir, whichever, and this is GJDC. Since we don't have any room in the west wing where the minor criminals are, sorry, you'll have to stay in the east wing where the kids that committed more serious offenses are roomed."

My jaw parted in shock as the warden continued. "We have breakfast at 0600 hours, lunch at noon, and dinner at 1800 hours all at the cafeteria in the main building. Your barracks are located on the ground and second floor of the east wing. You are dismissed."

* * *

**Month One/Next Day-0530 hours~~~~~**

I groaned into my stiff pillow as I heard an alarm. But, I got out of the small bunk and walked briskly over the cold, reddish, concrete floor and over to the ladies wash/locker room that was connected to the barracks. I went over to a set of gray lockers set against the far wall.

I took out my black duffel bag and changed into a pair of ripped black jeans, a loose gray shirt that had a skull on it with black hollow eyes, my favorite pair of black combat boots and a pair of leather fingerless gloves. I also put on a few things from Peter and the circus. A black, real leather jacket that had places for knives and guns on the inside as a birthday gift, a gypsy charm necklace made of leather cord, a pair of lock picks that I managed to snag from Alan Haley, a pocket knife from Dad from Christmas, and my remaining knife from the set Peter gave me. I slipped the picks into the soles of my boots, my pocketknife into my jeans, and the knife into my jacket. My favorite part about this place is that we are allowed to wear what we want as long as we own it and it's clean.

I headed back towards my bunk to wait for breakfast. I almost made it past before the other girls got there. Keyword: Almost.

"Hey you, you must be that new girl we heard we were receiving," sneered the lead girl. She was a tall, African American girl, with black, shoulder-length, dreads that had a purple tinge to them at the bottom, silver hoop earrings covering her left ear, a lip piercing and a tribal tattoo on her hand.

"Yeah, Ruxandra." I replied, wary of the girls. These were criminals, even if they seem nice.

The lead girl smirked and told me, "I'm Vanessa, but everyone around here calls me Amethyst." Ah, gang names.

"And this is Diamond," Vanessa pointed to a Caucasian girl with a lot of piercings that growled at me. "That's Ruby," she now gestured to a small Asian girl that glared.

"And we're Hell's Jewels!" Vanes-Amethyst finished.

"Wow, um, I got to go straighten my bed...and yeah, bye!" I slid passed them.

I heard a bell ring once and the doors of our barracks slid open. I walked to the cafeteria like a mindless drone, tired and hungry. I hadn't slept well last night because I had a bad feeling that Dick was in trouble. I sighed and shoved a few kids out of my way. I didn't care that they were criminals, I was starved. I walked into the cafeteria, and got in line at the food counter. I spied a menu as I went up the line. Huh, this place was more like a barred, drearier school then a jail. It read

'**_Breakfast_**_:_

**_Food_**_:_

**_Main:_**

_Breakfast Sandwich-Egg/optional, Bacon, Cheese, English Muffin_

**_Side:_**

_Hash browns, Sausage, Oatmeal_

**_Drink_**_:_

_Milk, Orange Juice, Water_'

I looked down and shuffled forward and requested, "A Egg Breakfast sandwich, but with the egg on the side please, sausage, and some milk." The lady behind the counter grabbed my food and set on a tray and handed it to me. I walked over to an empty table at the back of the room. I had just started eating when a group of five mean, tough looking kids came over.

"Hey lady, this is our table. Now move your ass," The smallest one said.

I leaned back in my chair and put my feet on the table as the cafeteria went silent. "Really. I don't see any sign declaring that this is _your_ table." The tension in the air was thick, but the tallest one just laughed.

"You got guts lady. There are enough seats for everyone. We're Hell's Angels. That's Greed/Gabe Myers," He said pointing to a black kid that had gold chains around his neck. "Revenge/Susiy Czmar," Now the hand was pointed at a girl with dirty blonde hair. "Toxin/ Andrew Dyir, my brother," a small kid with black hair and green eyes. "Fury/Lane Myers, Gabe's sis," a black girl with black dreads that had red streaks. "and finally I'm Nick Dyir, but call me Addiction, the leader. What's your name?" He introduced as they all sat down.

"Ruxandra."

He nodded, and I couldn't help but look closer. He had dark brown hair that was mop, emerald green eyes, a sharp nose and arched eyebrows that made him look like a thief. Nick was wearing a brown jacket, a ripped white tee, light, faded jeans, and grey converses.

I heard a throat clear and I snapped out of my thoughts, to find an amused, easy smile on Nick's face. "Like what you see? Am I...addicting?"

I blushed and turned away. I started studying the others. Gabe was probably 14 years old, had blonde dreads that looked a bit odd, dark blue eyes, a jagged scar running down his cheek, kind of lanky muscle wise and thick golden chains around his neck. He was wearing a denim jacket on top of a black tank top, along with blue jeans and black Reboks. He also had gold rings on his fingers. Unlike her brother, Lane had dark blue, almost black eyes, black dreads with blood red highlight, gold hoop earrings, and was wearing a red shirt that had light, see through, sleeves, black, super skinny jeans that had gold lining, and black high heels.

Susiy had dirty blonde hair that was shoulder length, a scar running down her jawline, silver, unnerving eyes. She had a black leather jacket like mine but was ripped and the holes were lined with red, a white tee shirt that looked like it was spattered with blood, black jeggings, and black combat boots.

Andrew looked young, maybe 11, and had a mop of black hair, emerald green eyes, like Nick. He had the same sharp nose and arched eyebrows, but had a long, thin scar going across his face. He was wearing silver dog tags around his neck, a green tee shirt that had a black skull with white glowing eyes on it, black jeans and neon green converses with black laces.

Though Hell's Angels members were all different and unique, they all had a hard look in their eyes that said that they've all been to Hell and back.

I looked back at Nick with a grim face. "You guys had it tough on those streets, didn't you?"

Nick looked up and with a look that said '_I've been through some pretty serious shit, but I came out okay._' I smiled and said, "Well, at least I have people like me."

The soft moment was interupted by a shrill bell. I grabbed my stuff and dumped it. I looked at Nick. "The food tasted like yesterday's shit anyway."

Everybody got up and exited. I stopped Susiy and asked, "Where is everyone going?"

She grinned. "For the west wing it's Rec hour, we all go to the top floor and stay there for two hours doing whatever there. They have martial arts, pool, billing, Tv, video games-" "Did you say martial arts?" I interupted.

She nodded and replied, "Ya, there's all types, but I do the karate and boxing."

I gave a matching grin as we started walking again. "I'm already a black belt in karate, and I've mastered jujitsu, kung fu, and ninjutsu. Plus I can wield a knife, use a gun and pick locks. I also ran track and I can do Parkour* what's parkour?*."

Susiy gaped. "Where the hell have you been all our lives?"

I laughed and said, "The circus!"

I guess with friends like these, I might be able to survive GJDC.

* * *

**Hey y'all suckers! Oops, probably shouldn't offend my readers. *Dodges tomato* Super sorry if you don't like the chapter, but I don't regret it. Lil' 'poiler...kind of. I'm going to be doing about a chapter for every month Roxa's stuck in jail. Oh and this is April, cause I want here jail time to end around...nuhh, tt, like you thought you were going to know...;D And special thanks to _xMidnightAurorax_ because she is going to help me through this and I'll be able to update faster, YAY! Oh, and I do not own Hell's Angels, I'm just using the name. Till next time!**

**~Dead**


	3. Sorry

**Okay, here's the deal. I think that this is a piece of fuckin' shit. And I wish that it'd go to hell. Even though xMidnightArourax helped and graciously beta'd, my writing just sucks. Okay, ****_this _****sucks. So I'm going to be re-writing it. It's going to be called ****_Lark: Beginnings _****or somethin' like that. And these are my ideas for a new story called ****_Justice High: Where All Teens are Heroes _****. Something like that. It'll basically be about the JL as teens and in high school. Will have villains, just not villain-y, just jerks and bullies, and important people like Lois Lane, Alfred, Talia, Selina, Lanny Lang(?), and much more. Please at least stop by and read the first chapter.**

**Goodbye all of my faithful followers,**

**Dead Hero**


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